


ohana means family

by eva_cybele



Series: Madelena Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-03-04 22:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3092711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eva_cybele/pseuds/eva_cybele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one-shots about Madelena Trevelyan, Circle Mage, Herald of Andraste, and Inquisitor, and the family she builds out of her inner circle. Mostly gen, possibly some background Madelena/Cullen and Dorian/Iron Bull in later chapters.</p><p>first up: Dorian, cousin.</p><p>chapter two: Cullen, husband. minor Trespasser spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. cousin

The first time she addresses him as ‘cousin,’ he looks at her as if she’s grown a second head.

“I’m rather certain that we’re significantly more distantly related than that, you know.”

Madelena shrugs, and continues perusing the selection of books he has tucked away in his little reading nook -- he always squirrels away the best ones for himself. “I come from a big family, Dorian. Most of us in the same age group just call each other cousin for simplicity’s sake; it’s much easier than trying to remember ‘third cousin, thrice-removed on the paternal side, and second cousin, seven-times removed on the maternal’.”

“Ah, another of your quaint southern customs. In Tevinter, it’s considered rude to address a family member as anything but exactly what they are. They usually look at you as if you’re some sort of idiot child if you forget even a single step of the whole process.” His voice is light, mocking, but Madelena can hear the twist of distaste underneath it.

Spotting what she needs -- a copy of _Writings of the Mortalitasi_ \-- Madelena snatches it and walks over to Dorian, brushing a quick kiss against his cheek. “I’m not interested in all the generations that separate us, cousin. You are my family, as much as if you were my father’s brother’s son. Maybe more.”

Dorian is open and congenial on the surface, but when it comes to anything deeper, he shies away like it might turn and bite him. So she makes her affection for him light and easy, so as not to burden him with it, but in a way that is also _true_. Little gestures, and lots of space, and never pushing for more than he wants to give. She hopes that it works, that she’s doing it right, because he deserves so much more than he’s been given.

She tosses a wave over her shoulder as she heads down the stairs. “I’m borrowing this, by the way!”

His reply comes a half a heartbeat slower than usual, testament to how much she had shaken him. “Be sure you bring this one back, and in decent condition this time. I had to have that Genitivi manuscript you absconded with last month rebound, you know.”

“My inquisition, my library, my books, Dorian. Deal with it!”

Madelena sends him one last cheeky grin before she disappears from view, and if she notices that he looks a little unsteady underneath the indignation, well, it’s easy enough to pretend that she didn’t.

 

 


	2. husband

“You know, you’re a comte now.”

“I’m a  _what_?”

The look Cullen gives her as she drapes a leg over his between the sheets is priceless, just as she’d hoped.

“Mm. Varric gave me an estate in Kirkwall not even two hours ago. You married a comtesse.” Another title to add to the others. Bann’s daughter, Enchanter of the Circle of Magi, Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor, Mrs. Cullen Stanton Rutherford… The last one is particularly nice, even if she isn’t officially taking his name.

“Since when does Varric have the authority to give away estates in Kirkwall?”

“Since he became Viscount, I’d imagine.” Madelena links her fingers together and stretches her arms abover her head, enjoying the way Cullen’s gaze fills with heat and words die unspoken in his throat. Two years, and he still looks at her with the same awe, the same disbelief at his own fortune. It’s humbling, but also makes her desperately want to prove to him that he deserves this. Deserves  _her_.

She is reaching for him, intending to draw him back in and show him exactly how much she loves him, when the Anchor flares bright green and the numbness in her hand erupts into searing pain that has her curling inwards and biting back a scream.

Warm, strong arms wrap around her, one hand stroking through her hair. She might laugh at the irony of it, having their positions reversed like this, if only the whole thing wasn’t so damned awful.

They lie in silence for a while, the fire in her palm slowly easing back into an ache.

“I hope you’ll understand if we don’t exactly make use of that estate? Kirkwall is… not exactly my favorite place.” He doesn’t ask if she’s alright. He knows, better than anyone else, what it’s like to live with a foreign magic eating its way through your body.

Madelena dredges up a smile from somewhere, propping it up over the melancholy that threatens to steal her wedding day away from her. It had been hard enough to carve these few hours out of the time before the Council was meant to begin. “As you wish, my lord.”

“Maker’s breath, Lena, don’t  _do_ that. Or would you rather me call you ‘your worship’ all the time?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I could think of a few instances that might be called for.” Making sure that her point drives home, she uncurls her body and presses it against the length of his, humming to herself when she feels a reaction twitch against her thigh.

A laugh bursts from his throat, and he gives her that look, the one that’s half-scandalized but entirely interested. It’s almost too easy to get under his skin, her adorable Chantry boy Commander, with his hair mussed and starting to curl near his scalp. Her husband, and if nothing else goes right today, at least she has this. 


End file.
